


With a Hand to Hold and Eyes to See

by Eos_x



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: ...but loves Evan's dimples., ...so he does., Developing Relationship, Digital Art, Dimples, Evan just wants make lots of Kenny art..., Eyesight problems, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Kenny has issues with his names..., M/M, Names, Romance, Sharing Body Heat, Telepathy, Temporary Character Death, Whump, Wraith (Stargate), Wraith Feeding, art therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27990600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eos_x/pseuds/Eos_x
Summary: Major Evan Lorne was flying Kenny back to Todd’s hive when they ran into trouble and crash-landed on a desolate planet. They are both injured, there is no stargate, and no way to fix the jumper. There's nothing for Evan and Kenny to do but hope for rescue and find a way to hold on.Or, a wraith and a human fall from the sky and then fall in love.***NOW WITH COVER ART and ILLUSTRATIONS!***
Relationships: Evan Lorne & John Sheppard, Evan Lorne/Kenny, Evan Lorne/Wraith Character(s), John Sheppard/Todd the Wraith, Kenny | Bonewhite & Todd the Wraith, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 41
Kudos: 78





	1. The Second

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MermaidMayonnaise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MermaidMayonnaise/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Necessary Evil](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057300) by [dragonflower1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonflower1/pseuds/dragonflower1). 



> Here it is! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! :D
> 
> First of all - Palatinedreams read this about a year ago when I had enthusiastically written two chapters before getting stuck. Thank you for your encouragement.
> 
> Second - Dragonflower1's _A Necessary Evil _magically provided the spark of inspiration that gave this story its focus and lead to the creation of my favourite scene. More on that when we get to chapter 4! Thank you for your incredible survival story about Rodney and Ian the wraith.__
> 
> Third - Salchat and Bagheerita saw this story through a few versions and helped me shape it into what you see here. I couldn't have finished this without you!  
> 
> 
> And last - Evan and Kenny. You are not entertaining frenemies like John/Todd or the powerhouse that is McShep. You are quiet, dignified, caring, and darn well persistent! For a whole year, you have been politely pulling me back into this story. Thank you for being fascinating!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Second contemplates the confession made by the injured human slumped against the side of the jumper. Then he offers one of his own.
> 
> Illustrations:  
> * Cover art!  
> * A close-up of Evan's blue eyes.  
> * Kenny and Evan together under the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added in a cover art piece for the story. I love it... but it is a bit strange seeing Kenny and Evan smiling! XD

  
  


“Atlantis, come in. This is Major Lorne. Over.”

...

“Atlantis, are you there? We’ve hit a debris field and taken some damage.”

...

“Atlantis, do you copy? Okay, we’re venting atmosphere. Go seal off the rear compartment… that lever by the… yes, that one!”

…

“We’ve just taken another massive hit! Atlantis, do you read me?”

…

“Damn it! Rear thrusters aren’t responding…

...

“...inertial dampeners are failing…”

…

“...we’re losing altitude… heading for the planet’s surface… can’t control… dropping fast… you need to strap yourself in. Now!”

…

“...’lantis! Do you copy?!”

…

“Atlantis!”

…

“...”

  
  


*****************************************************

  
  


“I am so, so sorry.”

The weary wraith barely heard the man’s apology, lost as he was in a whirl of emotions. Anger threatened to overcome him, but it was the hint of pity that stayed his wrath. _Pity?_ It was strange that he felt enough of a kinship with this human to feel sorry for him after his guilty confession. Anger was better. It was far less confusing.

“I am surprised to hear a Lantean confess to being at fault,” he uttered through clenched teeth. Fighting the urge to pace, he stood perfectly still and concentrated on expelling the acrid smoke from his spiracles. “I highly doubt your Commander would admit to any such flight errors.”

“I don’t know. I guess not,” came the honest reply. The wraith turned his head then and looked down at the man on the other side of the blazing fire. 

The human was slumped up against the smashed Lantean Gateship with his legs stretched out in front of him while his right arm was firmly clamped to his side. A sizable lump discoloured his right temple and a deep laceration had left a dried crust of blood smeared down the side of his face. _A concussion, surely._ It also seemed that the simple act of breathing was an effort. _Some broken ribs, possibly a lung injury,_ he surmised. The injured soldier was hunched over as though shielding himself from what he had done.

“Thanks for building a fire.” The man addressed this comment to his knees. 

“It was necessary.” In truth, the wraith had no idea what the Lantean needed, but it gave him something to do. The planet had an abundance of dried shrubbery and little else. “You were unconscious and seemed... cold. For a human.”

The man looked up at him then and the wraith was taken aback by the raw misery apparent on his face. This human, who had always appeared so calm in their past interactions, was clearly devastated by his mistake. The wraith had to avert his eyes from such a naked display of emotion. 

It was that error which landed them here on this unforgiving planet; which was not much more than a rock and devoid of nearly all forms of life. There were very few tiny minds chirruping at him from the darkness. The flat, dull landscape stretched on for miles around them, scarred with pockmarks and divots. Distant twin moons offered them little light; everything looked washed out and grey. 

“How is it that you made such a reprehensible error?” He glared across the fire but fixed his gaze on the crashed gateship, stuck sideways and partially buried in the featureless dirt. He closed his feeding hand into a fist.

The guilty human heaved a great sigh as he studied his hands. “It’s… it’s my eyes”. 

Over the years of his Commander’s troubled alliance with the New Lanteans, this wraith had found himself ordered to spend time in Atlantis where he couldn’t help but note the similarity between the soldier’s eyes and the rippling surface within the Alteran stargates. Despite himself, he now could not travel through a Ring without the formation of the rippling liquid surface calling forth an image of this man’s eyes. 

_Major Lorne’s_ eyes. He was supposed to refer to this one as Major. The wraith inclined his head to prompt him to continue.

“It’s a, well, a type of degenerative disease that runs in my family. It starts with natural deterioration but then the condition accelerates. Eventually, I’ll probably go blind.” This last part was delivered with such flatness, such a deliberate lack of emotion that the wraith knew how much it was hurting the human to even speak of it. 

“I’ve been noticing small problems for a while now; my vision going blurry before clearing again, edges softening, details disappearing. I told myself I’d go see Beckett soon. I’d never want to put my people in jeopardy.” The wraith almost looked away again from the desperately earnest expression. “But I knew it would cost me everything. My job, flying, Atlantis, Pegasus… _everything_. I just wasn’t ready to face that.”

As the Major's explanation continued, the wraith felt his anger slowly fading. He, too, would feel the same avoidance and resignation if he stood to lose his place and his hive.

“I thought I could cope for a bit longer and flying you back to your hive seemed easy enough. But when we exited the Spacegate and came upon that old wreckage... it was even hard to use the Heads Up Display. I just… and now, we’re here… and... it’s my fault.” He scrubbed at his face with a trembling hand. Speaking so much at once seemed to have drained him of the last of his energy, his face had gone alarmingly pale. 

“I suppose that even with perfect sight, most human pilots would have failed to evade the detritus entirely,” the wraith reasoned. It did not seem to have the effect he intended so he made another attempt. “Major. It was only your quick reflexes that resulted in a landing that allowed the two of us to survive at all.”

Buoyed slightly by the unexpected words of support, the Major appeared to pull himself together and he smiled for the first time. The wraith had never gotten used to the act of baring teeth being utilised to communicate pleasure. All the same, he caught himself leaning in to catch a closer look at the curious indentations brought forth on either side of the man’s smile.

When they disappeared, the wraith frowned and sat back again. His past disinterest in humans, usually preferring to avoid Worshippers altogether, left him unfamiliar with the more subtle variations in their appearance. 

The man sighed. “When we get back-- _if_ we get back-- I’ll go straight to Beckett for that exam and start the paperwork.”

“Perhaps…,” he offered slowly, “you could stay on in Atlantis to fulfill some other function?” The wraith wasn’t sure why he felt so compelled to improve the man’s mood. 

“Yeah, maybe. I guess.” Seeing the wraith’s confusion at his lack of enthusiasm, he continued. “It’s just that-- um.”

“It’s just that _what_?”

“I, um… never mind.” He shook his head then offered up a weak smile, one without indentations this time. “Listen, I wanted to say something to you.”

The wraith just waited in silence.

“Well, you probably thought I was out cold thanks to the, uh, knock to the head,” he gestured weakly toward the wound on his bristled brow ridge. “Anyway, right before we hit the ground… I felt you grab me-- .”

The wraith growled, seething at such an insult. “I did _not_ attempt to feed on you, human.” He had given his _word_ to the Lanteans and-- 

“Oh, god, Kenny! No, no, no,” the Major blurted out, reaching out to placate his anger, only to stiffen and slump back again. The wraith jerked forward before getting himself under control. The Major took a few slow breaths and ground out, “I know you didn’t do… _that_.”

Gathering his composure the wraith made sure to adopt his usual mask of cool indifference. “You can refer to me as ‘Second’,” he hissed coldly. 

“Right. _Second_. I didn’t mean to insult you. I really didn’t,” he exclaimed, clearly embarrassed. The man grimaced and asked, sheepishly, “Can I blame it on a bad concussion?”

The Second snarled, his lip curling. “If you must.”

Those alien blue eyes widened, glowing with remorse. “Please, uh, Second. I was just going to say that I know you tried to protect me... by, uh, covering me with your body. I just… look, did you get hurt?”

The wraith flexed his offhand. He found the human’s concern baffling. “My physical state is... tolerable. Do you fear that I will require your life force?”

“What? No. I don’t think so? I just want to know that you’re okay.” He attempted to straighten himself up a bit, only to cry out and keel over into the dirt. 

Without thinking, the wraith found himself standing over the gasping man, his hands hovering over the soldier’s prone form. Eyes squeezed shut against the pain, his breaths were coming in rapid pants. The wraith was unfamiliar with the specific healing procedures of the Lanteans. “What is it that I should do?”

“First Aid kit… in the… jumper,” he croaked. The Second immediately moved to the open portal and stood there scanning the contents of the Gateship. “Big box… white with… red cross.” 

_Ah, yes_. He took a moment to climb around and gather a few more items from the piles of upset objects. 

He placed the medical chest by the Major’s side and laid down a silver Lantean ground-foil before unzipping a thick bag for sleeping. Ever so carefully, for humans were entirely too fragile, he slipped one arm around the man’s back, the other under his knees, and gently lifted him into his arms. Ignoring the indignant grunt, he sat him down quickly, another rolled bag acting as a support for his back.

“Look, uh, I can do the rest, okay?” 

But the warm, dancing light of the fire reflected off the beads of sweat dotting the wounded man’s forehead and illuminated his struggle with the jumble of bandage cloths and fumbling with his buttons. Once again the wraith found himself serving the human. He batted those clumsy hands away, deftly unbuttoned the uniform shirt, and peeled back the undergarment. 

“Judging by your... expression,” the Major ground out as tiny bumps broke out across his bare chest, “it’s not a... pretty picture.” 

“Judging by the _injury_ , I concur that this is not an attractive sight.” The Second did not know what to make of the man’s sudden blushing. Instead, he recalled, with effort, some of the human anatomy teachings that had bored him in his youth. “This is nothing to be embarrassed about, Major. Based on the discoloured and swollen skin, your laboured breathing, and obvious discomfort, you have fractured several lower ribs. It is possible that this has also caused damage to your spleen, your liver, or your right kidney. This is not a comfortable affliction, particularly coupled with your concussion. Highly agonising perhaps, but certainly not a cause for embarrassment.”

The Major’s chuckle cut off quickly with another groan. He gave clipped instruction and the Second busied himself with binding some padding to the injured ribs, then he strapped the man’s arm to his side. The wraith muttered to himself as he tucked an instant ice pack between the soldier’s elbow and ribs. “Hmmm. The inner pouch breaks to dissolve the ammonium nitrate in an endothermic reaction, immediately forming ice. Fascinating.”

“Didn’t take you for... the doctor type.” The Major’s strained observation interrupted the Second’s musings, alerting him to the fact that he was still bent over his bare chest. 

His feeding hand was mere inches from nourishment, from hot skin and sweet relief. He swallowed hard and held his burning hand behind his back. 

Abruptly straightening up, he tidied away the discarded materials, pausing briefly to examine a pharmaceutical packet that crinkled between his fingers. Two cavities were empty; the Lantean had medicated himself. _Good_ , he mused, while zipping the human into his bag. “It is my estimation that you require medical attention. Also, you are correct; I know little of a human’s physical needs or common treatment methods.” 

“Oh... y’ seemed like you... knew enough just before?”

“Only that which is shared within the hivemind by our healers, and this information is gleaned from the Worshippers. They mostly take care of their own ailments.”

“Well, thanks anyway, Doc,” the Major quipped while smiling up at him, both cheek depressions in attendance this time. 

The wraith nodded curtly and perched on the closed lid of the first aid chest. If he did not receive medical attention soon, the Lantean’s survival was unlikely. The Second was strangely bothered by this thought.

Their eyes met and the wraith found himself struck by the fascinating roundness of the man’s pupil and the prismatic striations within his iris. 

“So… thanks. Again.” The Major coughed. “For shielding me. Thank you, Second.”

The wraith startled, surprised by the unexpected gratitude. He inclined his head stiffly and made a decision. “It may also put you at ease to know this; while my body has healed from the injuries I sustained during the crash, my depleted energy levels failed to restore all things… correctly.”

The soldier’s eyes swept over him, searching for any obvious flaw. With a reluctant sigh, the wraith extended his right arm to hover between them. It took great effort but he managed to unfurl his seized fingers and reveal his crooked, swollen feeding orifice. He hissed as hunger prickled across the surface of his palm. 

Ignoring the human’s grimace of disapproval, he explained, “the problem is with the internal workings. The hand was wedged awkwardly on impact and maintained that position until I regained consciousness. The healing was far too slow and much too weak to force the feeding barb back into alignment.”

“So… what do you mean exactly?” 

“I _mean_ that it is defective,” he announced flatly. “And as such…” 

“You… don’t mean…” Those spectral eyes glimmered with otherworldly emotion. _Was it... pity?_

The Wraith sniffed at the air. _Not pity, but something else.._. “I can no longer feed.”

The Major looked suitably appalled. “Oh, shit, Second. Seriously? So even if we manage to get back… .”

“It will make no difference.” 

The Major’s scent continued to confuse him. A miasma of conflicting emotions desperately clawed at his sensory pits until one finally presented itself as the victor; empathy, laced with a bitter note of commiseration. It would seem that the Earth human cared. _Impossible_. 

The Wraith leaned forward to let his long hair curtain his face from the man’s view. There in the safety of his silver cloak, he massaged his ruined palm with his thumb, his breath hitching from the sharp bite of his hunger.

They sat there in silence for a time, their eyes watching the modest fire but both minds drifting elsewhere. The Second wondered whether the medication was taking effect and if the man was dozing.

Then, in a hushed tone, Major Lorne asked him, “Do you think we’ll actually get back?”

The wraith paused, peering at glazed eyes that became silvered through his veil of hair. “No. I do not. Not soon enough anyway. For either of us.”

“Wow. Straight shooter. Probably shoulda... guessed you would be.” The man shook his head only to have to steady it against his free hand. “But, you know, Colonel Sheppard will send people to search for us. He won’t just let us die out here.”

“I am well-versed in the many virtues of your military leader,” he responded drily, the intended meaning lost on his woozy patient. “So, too, the High Commander will send out a search party. It is not the way of the Wraith but it is _his_ way. He is a good leader, like your Sheppard.” 

“Yeah? Sheppard’ll be harassing Woolsey to send multiple teams, regardless of the cost.” That sounded like a challenge.

“My Commander will come for me. _Personally_ ,” he countered. “Unfortunately, it is not a question of action, but one of time.” 

The man dropped his head. “Well, I appreciate you telling me about your hand.”

“You are welcome, Major Lorne.” He tucked his wounded hand under his good arm and tried to ignore the smouldering hollow within. 

Movement brought his attention to where the man absently traced his finger through the powdery grey earth. Dust puffed and hung suspended in the air, obscuring the random scrawls but even so, he tracked the hypnotic loops and whorls made by a restless hand. 

The two figures sat by the small fire in silence; the human watching the earth and the wraith watching the human.  
  


**************************************************************************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right. What do we think of Evan and Kenny so far? Let me know! :D
> 
> I think this is their first-ever story together as the main characters. I have to admit, I wasn't expecting it but these two just creep up on you and make you scrunch up your shoulders and grin like a proud aunty... 
> 
> More elbow nudges and 'aw' moments to be had... XD


	2. The Major

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Major Lorne and the Second compare notes on what it’s like to work under Sheppard and Todd.
> 
> Illustrations:  
> * A close up of Kenny's eyes.  
> * A portrait of Kenny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always wondered what different characters, particularly the minor ones, thought of the senior team. A lot has been made of the role Evan plays as John's XO in different stories. 
> 
> And with all of Kenny's seeming disapproval and apprehension about the Lanteans, I also wondered what it's like to be a wraith serving under Todd...

The grinding bite of broken bones dragged Evan from sleep. It took considerable effort to lift his head up off his chest and, for a moment, his vision danced with stars. _How long had he been out?_

The fire had burned down considerably but seemed to be warding off any inquisitive nocturnal creatures; if there were any. The planet was about as barren as it gets, leaving them with little more than dried shrubs to feed the meagre fire, which struggled to keep away the chilly night air. He’d have to ask Kenny - uh, the Second - to help him move into the jumper if the temperature dropped much further. It wouldn’t be comfortable within the overturned vessel, but it would be warm enough. 

Getting there would prove to be problematic; Evan could barely move without pain shooting through his side, causing his vision to white out. _Ha_. As if his vision was any use now anyway. 

As long as Evan sat perfectly still and took shallow breaths, his pain remained a dull throbbing ache. 

Evan couldn’t quite believe that he had told the wraith about his eyes. But he had probably needed to tell someone, to get those fears off his chest. He’d watched his mother sink into a deep depression as her eyesight failed. She had mourned the loss of her sight like a grieving widow; paints drying out, brushes lying abandoned, sheets shrouding her work. 

He couldn’t bear to imagine himself wasting away as she did. Like the wraith will... 

Evan glanced over and was relieved to find the Second still sitting on the First Aid case. At least he could keep an eye on the Wraith’s condition. He was looking a bit too pale and sort of… _drier_... than usual. The Second kept glancing at him from the corner of those watchful yellow eyes.

Sitting within reach of an injured wraith should have been a cause for alarm but he’d always felt, well, not _comfortable_ exactly, but not _un_ comfortable around him either. The knowledge that the Second could no longer feed, an injury sustained while protecting him during the crash, gnawed away at Evan. 

Soft hues of yellow and orange danced over green marbled skin and silky white hair. In the pale moonlight, those dark veins appeared as tiny cracks in delicate porcelain. The image struck his inner artist and his fingers twitched, longing to grab up a pencil and sketchbook. He made do instead with outlining the striking form in the ashy dirt beside him. The regal pose and perfect fall of hair, chiseled alien features… but the eyes were vacant, staring at the fire but not seeing. Evan noticed how those long green fingers of the wraith’s offhand were absently playing with locks of his hair, tightly winding the ends and tugging...

“Hey, um, Second?” The fingers froze, hair taut. Mistrustful eyes flicked his way. _Okay, now what?_ “Uh... how long have you served as an XO? What’s it like?”

In order to look at him, the wraith turned his whole upper body, twisting at the waist as though to avoid aggravating a sore neck. Evan vaguely wondered if a wraith’s mobility was more limited than a human’s. And, for that matter, whether the odd, almost bird-like head tilt aided their sight or hearing or something. 

When the wraith simply stared at him, Evan felt compelled to explain himself. “I mean, y’know, we’re both second-in-command and our commanding officers are somewhat… unorthodox.”

The wraith huffed a small laugh at that. “I must agree with your assessment. The Commander may be the oldest of my hivemates, but his impatience and impulsive nature are reminiscent of a wraithling.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Oh, yesss.” The Second shifted around on the first aid box so that he could comfortably face him. “The Commander likes to… wander. His roamings almost always bear reward, much to the excitement of our younger officers.” 

Evan wondered what kinds of weird and wonderful objects Todd had looted from around the galaxy. An absurd vision of glass-fronted cabinets full of curiosities lining the wily wraith’s quarters sprung to mind. His drug-addled brain took the idea one step too far, depicting Todd in a black velvet smoking jacket and nursing a pipe. _Okay_...

“Yeah, I know a thing or two about impulsive COs,” he replied. “Colonel Sheppard has a pretty impressive record. He’s actually a bit of a legend back at the SGC.”

“The Colonel is something of a ‘legend’ in this galaxy as well. But…,” the wraith began, uncertain of himself all of a sudden. The Second towards him, a pale spectre looming in the dark. His lip curled to reveal a few teeth and he dropped his voice down low, “it can be tiresome to step into command in their absence, is it not?”

As the Second hovered there expectantly, Evan was struck by the realisation that the wraith was confiding in him, sharing a conspiratorial moment from one XO to another. Feeling encouraged by their candid chat, Evan explained, “y’know, _technically_ Sheppard’s not supposed to go off-world so often, or even be _on_ a gate team. But try reminding him of that and--”

“You are told to go and lie with the _vulpex_?” The Second guessed, lip curling in disgust. 

“If _vulpex_ is a wraith curse word then, yeah, that’s about the gist of it.” 

"The Commander also does not like being reminded of such trivial things as rules. I often wonder where he gets such insouciance. It is unusual for a wraith.”

“Insouciance is… one way to put it. Sometimes Sheppard’s so _insouciant_ it’s like he’s on vacation. My guess?” Evan asked. The Second nodded his encouragement. “It’s the hair.”

For a moment, the wraith looked confused before realisation dawned. They shared a knowing look and Evan grinned. The Second smiled back, genuine and unguarded, and it completely transformed his stern features. Those yellow eyes sparkled and his nose wrinkled a little. The impish expression revealed deep smile lines and a slightly crooked smirk. In the firelight, he looked unusually… playful.

In the next moment, those eyes dimmed and Evan noticed he was rubbing his injured feeding hand. Without thinking, he reached out to rest his hand on the wraith’s arm, who immediately flinched away. “Sometimes the Commander’s absence extends far beyond what is typical. A deep melancholy plagues the hive which can only be remedied by his return.”

Evan thought about the times Todd had ended up thrown in the brig and the long months they were all stuck on Earth. “It’s weird but Atlantis seems to dim and power down a bit when Sheppard hasn’t made it back from a mission. We can keep her running and everything but I think I’m a poor substitute.”

“Another thing we have in common, Major,” the wraith said softly. “And now we find ourselves marooned here together without any sign of rescue.”

Evan lifted his gaze up to the night sky. Too bad he couldn’t see the stars. Craning his neck like this was making him giddy and his stomach heaved in agreement. 

“Sorry, Second,” he sighed.

The wraith was staring at him again, pale eyes unreadable as always. “When I reached the end of my Training, and the time of my First Feeding approached, my brood-kin were taken before a great queen. I was so overwhelmed by the magnitude of her presence that I made a mistake.” The wraith hesitated. “I did not accept her offer of a _filum,_ what you might refer to as a mind-link. It was a most grave offense.” 

The wraith paused again and chuckled bitterly to himself. Despite not understanding the relevance, Evan didn’t want to interrupt so he just waited until the Second continued. “Enraged, she forced her way in by tearing at the very fabric of my mind. She stripped me of my shields so that the thoughts of the other Wraith began to roar inside my mind. My desperate protests, my every wretched plea went out across the hivemind as a shrill cry. All around me my fellow young hivemates wailed, clutching at their heads as they tried to flee her throne room. It only ceased when her attack finally rendered me unconscious and...” he spread his arms, palms out, “I awoke on a planet much like this.”

“What? But… but that’s not right. You were still young… you didn’t insult her on purpose.” Evan was finding it hard to marry this picture of an exiled and hopeless young wraith with the refined, accomplished creature in front of him. “What did she expect you to do? How did you survive?”

It was the wraith’s turn to tilt his head back to gaze up at the heavens. His hair rippled down his back, painted silver by the moonlight. The gilded light of the fire glanced off his sharp features and flickered in his eyes. He brought his injured hand up to his chest and cradled it there.

The wraith darted a look his way. “Once my hunger truly took hold, I would take a life when I could not last any longer and then I would move on. If any hiveships ever came along, I could sense them from many leagues away. I would connect with their hive-mind and simply scream.”

Evan frowned and the Second hastened to add, “the humans never knew that the price they paid was given back in kind by deflecting the devastation of a culling.”

"I guess…”

“The life or two I would take before moving on is nothing compared to the hundreds that would be culled by a hive.” The wraith almost looked… earnest. 

Evan reached down and filtered some of the grey dust through his fingers. Instead of answering, he changed the subject. “So what changed?”

A smile played on his green lips, once again scrunching up his nose. “The Commander.” 

“Todd?”

“Yesss.” The wraith sniffed. _“Todd._ Although he was a mere _Excursor_ then; a scout sent by his Commander to track the rumours of a peculiar howling weapon employed on humans worlds to repel approaching hives. He followed the tales until he found me.”

“But how did he get close enough?”

“Simple. The Commander had already fortified his mind with near-impenetrable mental shields. He walked right up to me and told me to do my worst. I did. I tried everything to make him leave, to break him. When I was worn out and gasping, with the Commander just standing there smirking.” The wraith’s left nostril twitched, revealing his distaste for this element of his story. Evan was gleaning a great deal from the way the Second moved his nose. 

“Sounds like Todd alright.”

The wraith responded with a delicate snort. “He wanted to know how many minds could I hear and from what distance, how far I could project my internal noise; the questions were endless.” 

“And what did you say? What could you… hear?” Evan was riveted, hanging off the wraith’s every word. 

Pale hands balled into fists. “I told him, ‘Everything’. I felt all Wraith who ventured within the planetary system. I heard every mind on every hive as they passed through. And they were all... screaming.”

Evan rocked back in shock then squeezed his arm against his protesting ribs. What that queen had done to him when he wasn’t much more than a defenseless kid... how her act of violence had made the wraith suffer… 

"Hmmm,” the Second sniffed at the air and hummed in approval. “I sense your horror, human. But it was long ago. The Commander stayed with me for many lunar-cycles; he did not give up and he did not leave me.” 

Evan thought about Sheppard. “No man left behind.”

The Second considered him for a moment before slowly nodding. “I began as his apprentice. My mental deficits were tolerated as long as I kept out of everyone’s way.”

“Tolerated?”

“Most wraith crave the constant connection to the _hivemind_ , preferably one controlled by a queen. But I had survived without it for so long that it felt... invasive.” The wraith shuddered. “You must understand, Major Lorne, that I follow the Commander because he allows me to take what little connection I need from him, but ultimately hold myself outside of the hivemind. It is just… too much.”

“I guess I’ve always preferred to watch my people from a distance. And I like the peace and quiet of living in a mostly empty city. Huh.” Evan was surprised to realise just how content he was in his own company. _What did that say about him?_

“Second?” the Major inquired. “Is that why don’t you command your own hive? There are plenty of them in the Alliance now and you’ve served under Todd for so long… I mean, you have the tattoo… doesn’t that signify a Commander?”

The Commander, he… basks in the reverence his officers hold for him and blankets them in the protection of his powerful mind. He meets their need for a Hive-Master as well as standing in for an absent queen. He is a true _dominus_.” A fond look softened the wraith’s face. “But I have no interest in leading. I do not wish to connect and care for a hive full of minds.”

“I get that,” Evan offered. “There really is no one better than Sheppard to help lead Atlantis. He’s the best CO I’ve ever had, actually. He’s even put me up for a commendation.”

“Mmmm. The Commander honoured me with this mark,” the Second explained, long graceful fingers tracing the lines across his right cheek. Evan noted that he used his offhand while the other remained tucked under his arm. “One line for each time I brought down my shields and exercised my… differences.”

The Major looked pointedly at the wraith. “Todd got you to use your mind against his enemies.”

“Yesssss, and I did it gladly,” the wraith hissed, lifting his chin. “It was necessary whenever he had to go before a queen. I would join my mind with his so that he not only remained untouchable but was also ready to emit a crippling strike if necessary.”

 _Crippling_. Evan couldn’t even imagine wielding that kind of power. “You can… wow. Your crew must find that, um, reassuring? I guess?”

“I am afraid not. I project a false impression of a mind that is empty, bleached, and barren, which they can barely tolerate.” His lip curled in disgust. “They question whether I should hold such a high rank, why I have an _eres_ marking but do not command. And… why I hold the Commander’s favour and receive all the honour of a claimed Consort.” 

“You’ve lost me a bit there with the, uh, Consort thing,” Evan confessed. He ignored the unexpected flutter of disappointment he felt upon hearing that this wraith was Todd’s… _something_. 

The wraith tilted his head to one side, inhaling deeply. “You are… disappointed with my tale? Or with the telling? I have never told this to anyone so you must forgive my poor delivery.”

“No, no. Not at all,” Evan blurted out, surprised that the wraith was trusting him with his painful past. “Please continue.”

“Ah, but we are at the end.” The wraith opened the first aid kit and produced an assortment of silver foiled items which he arranged on the lid. Kneeling on the opposite side of his makeshift table, the Wraith lined up two tablets, two bottles of water, and a few MREs before sitting back on his heels and lifting one brow ridge in expectation. 

Evan took a water bottle and swallowed his meds, watching as the wraith tipped the second water bottle over his feeding hand, sighing as the liquid cooled his scarlet palm.

“Are you--?”

“Eat, Evan Lorne.” The Second prodded the MRE bag toward him with one clawed finger, frowning as it wobbled. 

That turned out to be easier said than done and in the end, the Wraith had to rip the bag open and hold it steady on top of the box so Evan could shovel spoonfuls of brown and white gloop into his mouth. He misjudged one mouthful and wound up smearing some down his chin. Before he could wipe it off, a taloned finger swiped at the mess and raised it to a skeptical nose. 

“What is this concoction?” A surprisingly pink tongue lapped at the gravy.

“It, uh, it’s, um…” _C’mon, Evan, it’s just a word. You remember words, right?_ “Pie! It’s pie. Shepherd's Pie, to be exact.”

The Wraith looked horrified.

“No, no, no! Not Sheppard, _shepherd_. As in the guy who herds sheep. But- but the _guy_ isn’t in the pie, the sheep are. Lamb. It’s made with lamb. Or so the SGC tells us. I have my doubts.”

The Second resumed licking his finger, not that Evan noticed, busy as he was, staring intently at the MRE packet. 

“Uh, here,” he offered, blindly handing over the spoon. 

“My thanks.” 

They passed the utensil back and forth while Evan studied his fellow diner. “I didn’t think your kind liked meat?”

“We do not.” The Wraith scrunched up his nose. “But it is no matter as this meal contains no Sheppard-meat or otherwise.”

“I knew it!” He grinned and received a crooked smirk in return. They looked at each other over the near-empty silver pouch and Evan felt his stomach flip. Must be the not-meat. 

Drowsiness swamped his brain suddenly; the meds were kicking in, a comfortable warmth spreading out across his battered side and making him feel all foggy. The Wraith was lit by the flickering fire from one side, casting the other in shadow, which almost concealed the way he was digging his thumb into his palm.

Evan tried once more to ask, “Are you--?”

“Hussssh,” replied the haunted face, eyes pale and lacking their menacing glow. Was the wraith’s hunger doing this? Was it draining the life out of him and leaving him a pale imitation of what he should be? Evan didn’t want to think about that or about what would happen if the wraith disappeared entirely. 

Instead, he desperately wanted to reach out and take that broken hand in his. But he didn’t think his touch would be welcome, so he settled for nudging the final silver-foiled item toward his unlikely dinner guest.

“What is this?”

As he drifted off again, he replied, “Dessert.”

He was sure he saw those eyes spark with gold interest but maybe it was just a trick of the dwindling firelight.

  
  


******************************************************************************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was kind of my version of a little picnic dinner with some first date chatting about work... XD
> 
> Next up, we get a little insight into why Kenny is such a loyal follower of Todd as the two of them get to know each other better...


	3. The Consort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Second continues to look after Lorne in his injured state, only to find himself in need of some care as well. 
> 
> Illustrations:  
> * Todd and Kenny.  
> * John and Evan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time that Kenny and Evan had 'the talk'...
> 
> A quick note on the art; some of the pictures are based on stills from the show then digitally painted to bring different characters together. More notes at the end.

Despite the countless hours that had passed, at least three meals worth, if measuring time in the human manner, there was no change to the heavy darkness that shrouded the planet. 

The wraith knelt there on the cold ground, elbows propped on the Lantean medical case and inflamed feeding hand clutched to his chest. Hunger was gnawing at him; the empty dessert packet was a mocking reminder that food was, and always would be, useless to him. He did not share his Commander’s faith in the Lantean retrovirus but he had hope, mostly for his brother’s sake, that something good would come from it. _My soft-hearted one deserves that victory._

The timing was not lost on the Second that his leader’s quest to change the fate of the wraith coincided with the appearance of one rather willful human. Not that he could pass judgement any longer. 

Never before had he wished that he could take nourishment from food. It spoke to his desire to keep the Major safe that he would be willing to eat questionable cold pies made of Sheppard-less meat from silver foil bags for the rest of his long life. Although the dessert had been acceptable.

Their fire had greatly diminished, casting only a weak amber glow over a small circle of earth. The Second was grateful to have been without an audience to witness his whimpering mewls as the hunger bore down on him. At some point over the last few hours, he realised he had begun shivering. He should have gone to collect more kindling while the Major wasn’t awake to watch him stagger about, but it was too late now. 

He watched as Major Lorne roused from yet another drug-induced slumber, blinking in confusion to find himself still bound to this heartless planet. He looked so young in that moment, that the wraith found himself wanting, once again, to reassure him or offer some empty comfort. It was baffling to consider just how much he wished to take care of this one and see him well again.

It was hard not to stare at the Major’s quilted sleeping sack. But lying alongside the human would bring him far too close to the sonorous hum life that was positively singing to his starving body. His mind was beginning to resonate with the call of Major Lorne’s Life, his thoughts trilling in perfect harmony and working his hunger up into a wailing chorus.

Tired blue eyes zeroed in on him and widened at whatever they saw. The man shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny so the Second forced himself to look away. 

“Uh, so, do you actually have a name? Other than Second, I mean?” The questions came with a subtle wheeze which the Second tried not to think about. It was clear that the Major still felt bad for referring to him as ‘Kenny’ earlier. He so despised that meaningless human sound. “Not that there’s anything wrong with ‘Second’. It just seems a bit… cold. Impersonal. Although, I guess the marines all address me as ‘Major’. But some people call me ‘Lorne’. And my friends just say ‘Evan.”

 _How... curious_ . “Approximately thirteen light-phases past, you informed me that _I_ should refer to you as Evan.” The Second hesitated, not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer to his next question. “Does that make me your ‘friend’?”

“Well… sure. Yeah.” 

He searched those distracting eyes for any hint of falsehood and found none. “I find that this… pleases me. _Evan_.”

The one who was now Evan, his _friend_ , went to reply only his breath hitched and his whole body shuddered. The man’s body was wracked with violent coughing spasms that sent him rolling onto his side and curling his arms around himself. The Second could only crouch at his side as the barking hacks and rattling, wet wheezes went on and on. 

When he caught the sight of blood speckling Evan’s shirt sleeve, he finally shot into action, fumbling with the latch on the first aid case and, in the end, ripping it off its hinges. He searched frantically through the unfamiliar items, holding up various objects that looked promising. He whirled around to present the Major with a piece of orange tubing designed to be inserted through the nasal cavity and keep an airway open. 

Evan’s eyes widened and he shook his head, fighting all the while to suck in enough air and suppress his gasping convulsions. The Second dropped the nasal tube and scooped up a packet of antiseptic wipes before returning to his worried crouch. With great uncertainty he grabbed hold of the soldier’s arm and levered him back into a seated position, humming in apology as the man screamed in protest. 

“Mmmm. I am sorry, Major Lorne. _Evan_. I will attempt to help you.” Hefting the soldier’s free arm up onto his shoulder, he positioned the man’s shaking thumb and fingers at the base of his neck. He set a slow breathing rhythm so that air could pass back and forth over his laryngeal membrane, creating low-frequency vibrations. He continued to hum, oscillating his pitch and checking Evan’s scent to find the combination that resonated best for his breathless friend. Thrumming never failed to soothe even the most distressed wraith, so he hoped it would help a hyperventilating human.

Using the cool alcohol wipes, he slowly and systematically cleaned the dust and bloody flecks from the man’s face, neck, and chest. He wiped in time with his breathing and, as the grime came away, Evan’s wheezing slowed and his coughing began to subside. 

“Second.” The laboured breathing had left Evan completely drained. “Meds. More… the pain.” 

He ceased his thrumming. “Major Lorne, I am afraid it is not yet time.”

The hand at his neck squeezed weakly. “Please?” 

He opened his mouth to tell the Major that it was “out of the question” but instead heard a hissed “yesss” escape from his lips. He gave in, passing over two tiny white capsules and a fresh bottle of water, which he held to the man’s lips as he drank. 

Evan slumped back against the gateship, his hand slipping from the wraith’s shoulder, and breathing with an audible wet rattle. He rasped a “thank you” and closed his eyes.

Certain he would sink back into slumber, the Second sat and scrutinised Major Evan Lorne of Atlantis, his friend. He wished there was more he could do, then chided himself on such sentimental thinking. 

“I liked… your, uh… purring?” With eyes still closed, his human expression was much harder to read. “It really… helped.”

The Second bowed his head in acknowledgement, not that the Lantean could see him. It seemed sleep would claim him and he was suddenly bereft at the thought of being alone again. “Evan?”

“Hmmm?”

“You asked about my name?” He chastised the uncertainty in his voice as Evan lifted his head from the gateship and looked back at him. A raised brow prompted him to continue.

“Wraith do not share their names with humans because you would miss so much of the _meaning._ Spoken words are so... reductive.” He breathed a great sigh and frowned in concentration. “You already know that I am the _Second_ , but you are not satisfied with this.”

“Yeah... no.”

“Your people call me Kenny, but I am _not_ satisfied with _that_.”

“True.” 

“For my blank mind-impression, other Wraith have come to know me as Bonewhite but this is, as you now know, a fallacy.”

“Bonewhite? I suppose it kind of fits.” 

The wraith’s heart sank. The man glanced at him and spluttered out a croaked apology. “What I meant to say is that I _would’ve_ thought it suited you when we first met. The name’s kinda harsh, and you were, well, intimidating back then. But now... ? Nope. Not at all. Not even close.”

“Evan, I…,” he trailed off and resorted to simply nodding his head at the human’s observation. “You have my thanks.”

He wondered why he felt so comfortable with this human. Being around this one just felt… good. Inexplicably and refreshingly… pleasant.

The Second realised that he had been staring again. “I do not share these next designations easily. You see, to me, your ‘Todd’ is not only my Commander but I also address him as _aegis mea*._ And, to him, I am not only The Second, I am also _vis mea**_.” 

He narrowed his eyes and leaned closer. If Evan had been Wraith, he would have pressed his mind hard against Evan’s to help him _know_ and _understand_. “Evan Lorne, those Namings are only for that wraith and I.” 

“Well, huh. My Wraith is a bit rusty but, yeah, I get it.” It was no surprise that a soldier would know the words for _shield_ and _weapon._ The Major slid down the gateship a little and looked around, bewildered at his new position. The Second hid a smile; it seemed the medication was taking effect. Evan eyed him skeptically. “But... I still don’t know what to call _you_.” 

The Second had no other designation to share. 

Evan chewed on his lower lip. “You know, uh, on Earth, the name Kenny’s not actually so bad. It actually means, um, ‘the handsome one’.” 

Surely he had misheard. “Handsome? Among my people, I am not considered as one who is aesthetically pleasing.” 

Evan’s cheeks reddened and he dropped his gaze, mumbling into his lap, “Well, for what it’s worth, I think it fits.”

All at once, the Second was overwhelmed by a different hunger, one that had lain dormant for a great many centuries, one that he thought was out of reach for him. The intensity of his desire to be nearer still, to _touch_ even, made his hands shake and his mind cry out with _want_. 

For once, his incessant need to feed lay quiet, forced right to the very back of his being, supplanted by this sweet moment and thoughts of _want-please-brother-mine-together..._

The wraith shifted a bit closer to Evan. Not too close but just near enough to detect the faint heat coming from the exposed skin of his chest. 

Evan gave him a dopey smile. “Y’ know you smell kinda minty and sort of like… trees.” 

“And do you... like these scents?”

“Oh, sure. Yes, definitely.”

He breathed deeply, tasting Evan on the back of his tongue. “I, too, appreciate your scent. You smell of human, of course, and of the metallic salt of your city, but also like a pungent organic compound. It is similar to _nepenthe,_ a somewhat toxic oil produced on our hives.”

It amused him to watch Evan attempt to sniff at parts of his person; under his arm, his clothing, the back of his hand. “Oh, you can probably smell my paints.”

“Ah, that is right. You like to paint, I remember.” The wraith moved a fraction closer, fighting to resist the urge to launch himself at the human, and instead, laid his offhand gently on Evan’s left arm, checking to see if this lightest of touches would be spurned. “You smell like my home.”

Evan hesitated, and the Second was overwhelmed by _regret-hurt-rejection-no-please_ . He was caught for a moment between fear and longing but rather than pull away, the wraith leaned in and inhaled deeply, flaring his spiracles wide. He breathed in the redolence of _truth_ and _worry_ and _yes_. 

Releasing his breath in a relieved sigh, he allowed himself to lean his hip against his admirer’s leg, the shiny outer shell of the sleeping sack rustling between them. Hidden under his left arm, he stretched out the stiff fingers of his feeding hand to touch the cold zipper mechanism. He traced the metal teeth along a little and skipped over the pulley. _There_. He hooked his fingers into the gap near the top of Evan’s thigh, warming his numb fingertips. 

“So, uh, ‘Wraith Who is Impossible to Name’...,” Evan began. 

Cautiously, he looked up to find the medicated man attempting to wink at him. _A joke then_. He forced himself to smile and relax his hands, plucking his concealed claws from the shiny sackcloth. 

Evan, oblivious, went on with his question, although suddenly rather coy. “What did you mean before about, um, being Todd’s consort? Is that like a ‘relationship’ thing?”

“Hmmm.” He was unsure exactly what his friend really wished to know. “When one Wraith engages intimately with another and they wish to be bonded, we refer to them as a sworn pair. The one of higher rank is _convir_ and the lower is _consors_. To be sworn is forevermore.”

The human was intently studying the texture of his sleeping sack, plucking at a loose thread and winding it around his finger. 

“Evan.” He tilted his head to examine those sad eyes. “Over the centuries there have been wraith who coveted the closeness I shared with the Commander or desired him for themselves, including queens.” 

“I’m betting that Todd’s not so keen on a queen telling him what to do.”

“And you would be correct. For the most part.” On the subject of queens, he had no intention to elaborate, no matter how high those eyebrows climbed, nor how big and imploring those caerulean eyes became. “Claiming me as his Consort kept the more ambitious wraith at bay. While I am his, he cannot be chosen by any other.”

A heavy hand landed on his knee, settling there in an almost possessive fashion. The wraith sniffed to avoid sighing at the thrill of warmth bleeding through his leather trousers. 

Evan frowned. “But that claim also kept Todd’s precious weapon all to himself.” 

It was his turn to glare down at the synthetic fabric lying between them. “Think what you will, Major Evan Lorne, but the Commander is the _only_ wraith who delights in my mental presence. He is also the _only one_ who has ever chosen to stand between myself and all those who seek to do me wrong. To... to... _invade_ and _steal_ and _control_ and _hurt._ ” 

And suddenly he was the one struggling to breathe as the reality of his situation truly sank in. With a defective feeding barb, he had no way to ever gain nourishment on his own. No wraith, not even his beloved _aegis-mea_ , would shackle himself to one who lived hand-to-chest… one like him… a wraith who is... 

“ _Debilitis_.” He spat the damning curse at his defective hand.

As though to underscore his torment, the creeping hunger chose that moment to spring forth from its lurking place, coiling around his ribs and spine and crushing his lungs. It clawed and snarled its way up his throat while his chest heaved with frantic gasps, desperate to drown the fiery beast with frigid night air. 

Panic threatened to untether his mind and leave him to drown, when that same heavy, warm hand slapped against his back and tried to pull him down, down, down to touch that heat and skin and proof of _life_. 

Against his best efforts, his feeding hand skittered up and over the artificial fabric and bandaged ribs to find hot human skin. A strangled roar escaped him then as he wrestled with his mangled hand, forcing it to close. 

Dry lips brushed the shell of his ear, exhaling an incomprehensible jumble of words, then drawing in his half-swallowed groans. He beat his fist against the drumming heart of his target. 

His _friend_. 

Evan.

He expected the man to snatch back his arm and use it to force him away. In his weakened state, it wouldn’t take much to fend him off. Instead, the arm tightened and the muddle of words got louder and more insistent. Something about joining and helping and hurting… something about together and please and _friend_... 

It took him many long, ravenous seconds to decipher what was being said. 

_Link..._

He didn’t dare waste a precious moment questioning the offer. With both fists pressing down on Evan’s chest, he summoned all the phrenic strength he could muster and bore down on his hunger, stripping it from his mind, his mouth, his throat. 

When it lay writhing in his chest, he dragged his white-hot eyes up to meet cool pure blue, and only then did he let his _solis,_ his mind, _reach_ . A thin _filum_ , the weakest thread he had ever spun, inched across the micrometres and the lightyears between them. 

Instead of refusal or even resistance, he felt a sense of duty stretching back towards his mind, coated with concern and soaked through with care. As the _filum_ connected, their link acted as a channel allowing all of his turmoil to bleed from him, but instead of punching through the lesser human _solis_ , his anguish evaporated into a miserable mist. The release was dizzying and calming all at once. 

What returned across their delicate thread was a wave of affection so uninhibited, so potent, that the wraith simultaneously welcomed that tenderness while tempering the force of the man’s feelings. His weak and weary _solis_ sank into the blissful safe depths of _majorevanlorne-soldier-protector-brother-friend_.

"Second.” Evan’s voice seemed so far away, his mind muting all else - noise, cold, hunger, pain. “Hey, there.” 

Fingers were carding through his hair, beginning at the nape of his neck and sliding down to rest on his lower back before skimming back up the sensitive bone spurs of his spine. He shivered. The fingers paused.

He thought _do not stop_ and _please_ and _friend_ until those gentle fingers resumed their comforting strokes until Evan’s calm became his calm.

The Commander, _aegis-mea_ , had been the only one who had ever accepted him just as he was. Until this one, this _human_ , somehow smiled his way into a wraith’s affections. And now Evan was offering such tenderness and dedication, the kind that he had only ever given his Commander, his sworn _convir_ and brother. 

“You really love him, don’t you... Todd, I mean.” This human was managing to discern far too much from such a weak _filum_. 

“Yes.” He pressed his cheek against Evan’s. A poor apology.

“But…”

“Yes?”

“But Todd… he seems, well, like he wants…,” Evan swallowed. An image flashed in the wraith’s mind then; Colonel Sheppard and Evan, together and smiling. The admiration for his Military Commander was obvious in their link, as was his discomfort with discussing the Colonel and the Commander. “It’s just that… well, they’re always together and they have this, this _thing_ between them and, and... you must really hate him. Sheppard, I mean.”

“While imprisoned by the Genii,” he paused to appreciate the wave of disdain emanating from the Lantean, “my Commander lost all ties with our hive and I lost all hope that I would ever feel his _solis_ again. But amongst everything that was lost, he found John Sheppard who gifted him with the will to live.” 

He brought his offhand up to rest on Evan’s cheek and focused his tired mind on projecting truth.

“Our bond has evolved to be so many things, Evan Lorne. It was hard for my Commander to return to our hive and he struggles with the weight of most _soli_ other than mine. And so, he seeks out the simple silence of your city and the complex noise of your Sheppard. He needs that human like he needs air to breathe.”

“And this doesn’t _bother_ you?” 

“Quite the opposite; the Commander and I are two heavy minds who manage to hold each other in balance. But _your_ Colonel is kindred to my Commander; they are the _same_... a sworn pair in all but name.” 

Doubt plagued those blue depths and seeped down their link. The wraith stroked his thumb across soft skin and down to rest where that dimple lay hidden. 

“John Sheppard has not _taken away_ one whom I love. No, Major Lorne. John Sheppard has _returned_ him to me. And every time the Commander visits your city, he is even more at peace.” It had become vital that his friend understood this. John Sheppard does not have my resentment, Evan. He has my endless thanks.” 

“I... guess that makes sense.” The wraith got to see half a smile then while a quiet sense of hope leaked into his mind. “You’ve been a… sworn pair for such a long time. You just want Todd to be happy?”

“And, perhaps I, too, have changed,” he ventured, sensing the leak swell into a steady trickle. “Every thought of mine has always centred on that one wraith; my charmed one. That has never wavered.” 

Evan’s growing hope ground to a complete stop, dejection and hurt welling up beneath.

The wraith took a deep breath and unleashed an earnest outpouring of his own. “Until now.”

And there it was; that dazzling smile that made his heart stutter and his palm hurt and his _solis_ spin off its axis to hurtle into realms unknown. He smiled in return.

The Second turned and settled himself back against the ever-present but worthless gateship, Evan’s arm around his shoulders providing the perfect weight to stop him floating from this strange reality altogether. It was much warmer leaning against his friend’s feverish body and much calmer linking to his cool human mind. His hunger and thirst struggled somewhere in the distance. 

As if by unspoken cue, they both turned towards the remnants of their campfire, which winked back at them all rosy gold. They sat there shoulder to shoulder, content with the soft firelight and warm company. 

  
  


**********************************************************************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Todd and Kenny painting is based on a still from the scene when Todd puts his arm around Mr. Woolsey during his siege of the Daedalus. I swapped Woolsey out for a somewhat captivated Kenny then painted them in different blue hues. I just love these two! Bit of a big brother/little brother vibe in this one rather than consorts. 
> 
> For John and Evan, I put together two separate head shots using the Polish editing app and then used a filter from the Comica app so it appears more like a cartoon or painting. :D
> 
> So... they've had 'the talk' about Kenny's relationship with Todd. In true wraith fashion though, their exact arrangement is all rather vague. But it's pretty clear that Kenny in very interested in Evan, just as Todd is constantly drawn back to Sheppard. XD


	4. The Artist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan gives the Second a unique gift and they discuss names. 
> 
> Illustrations:  
> * Evan and Kenny's minds 'overlapping', and travelling together through the galaxy.  
> * The image Evan paints inside Kenny's mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got this far with the story before getting stuck. Then Dragonflower1 posted an update for _A Necessary Evil _and this passage leaped out at me (from Chapter 50: 'Crucible'):__
> 
> _  
> _Wishing he could take back his initial inquiry and return to a state of ignorant bliss, Rodney sniffled forlornly and turned his wretched attention to the road they traveled, seeking a distraction. Autumn foliage rustled overhead in brilliant shades of ocher, umber, and carmine, bold brush-strokes of color set against a cloudless cerulean sky. Sunlight filtered through the quivering leaves, throwing dappled shade on their path, while the afternoon breeze blew cool against the back of his neck with just a hint of a bite. All in all, it was a perfect day, but rather than cheer him up, it only made him feel worse._  
> _
> 
> _  
> _This beautiful imagery sparked my imagination and Chapter 4: The Artist emerged..._  
> _

While Evan had dozed, leaning heavily on the wraith at his side, the fire had died down to ruby embers. Neither of them had the strength to search for more wood. Instead, they sat side by side, shoulder to shoulder, looking up at the stars. Well, the wraith was looking; Evan could only just make out the blurred presence of two pallid moons. Since the crash, the twin crescents had tracked across the sky and now hovered just above the horizon to their left. 

Evan wished he knew what that meant; it felt like they’d been there for a lifetime but it had probably been only a day. He’d give just about anything to see a hint of sunrise but this planet seemed determined to leave them in the heartless dark. 

Another bout of coughing left his head throbbing and ribs aching again which was probably a sign that he needed to take more pills but he’d totally lost track of when he had his last dose. 

He could feel the Second’s concern for his breathing.  Having the wraith link with his mind should have filled him with dread, but he’d been desperate to distract his companion and alleviate some of his suffering. 

Instead of pain or even discomfort, he had first felt a sense of curiosity reaching towards his mind and a sort of tickling. No, tickling wasn’t quite right but it was unlike anything he could compare it to. As the link connected, a torrent of raging starvation had come barrelling towards him and all he could do was steel himself against the onslaught. But as it had reached his mind, it exploded into a harmless cloud. The effect was frightening and fascinating all at once. Next to him, the wraith had whimpered in disbelief as his suffering dissipated into Evan’s human mind; a mind that was not at the mercy of such ferocious hunger. 

The Second’s mind fired with a need to understand;

_ evan — evanidus [vanish] — evanesce [fade-dissolve-disappear] — evangel [verity-fact-truth] _

Evan’s desire to protect the Second from his own suffering swelled to something powerful that charged back down their link of its own accord. He could feel when the wraith had to reduce their connection to a faint thread, grateful for Evan’s resolve but unprepared for such intensity. Even so, what remained of their link was still something intimate and profound. 

In Evan’s mind’s eye, all he could see was a dull off-white nothingness. This thought was met with a haunting echo of  _ nothingness _ —  _ desolation — wasteland — wrong.  _

Rather than feeling lost or disturbed by it, he pushed further into the nothing. The wraith’s mental plane was completely devoid of ambient noise or warring images. It felt peaceful — soft — undemanding —... free. The hateful pain that had been plaguing him since their crash scraped its way down his body; temple… shoulder… ribs… hip… until it lost its grip and he was overcome with blessed relief. Gone? 

_yessss… for now._ The voice was not rough and rasping, but sighed gracefully through his mind.

He could sense the wraith’s relief at his acceptance of this space and it saddened him to think that other wraith rejected him for thinking his mind was barren and empty. But while it appeared that the wraith had laid his mind bare, he had told Evan it was all a facade. He wondered what lay beneath the surface… but he knew not to push. 

Instead, Evan  attempted to demonstrate what the loss of his eyesight made him fear so badly.  He contemplated the blank canvas before him for a moment, letting that familiar sense of possibility soak in and take hold of his imagination. Anticipation built within their shared space as Evan began to conjure a swarm of materials and images and ideas. When he was ready, he unleashed his passion and decorated the wraith’s mind with artworks made up from the whole spectrum colours, from soft hues to rich pigments. 

He sensed the Second’s desperate hope that some of the images might stain his mind forever. Evan opened his eyes to find the wraith staring at him. “Evan… you see all of this? These colours... all of the time?” 

“What d’you mean?” Sitting so close, he noticed how the wraith’s slitted pupils were edged with thin gold lines. 

“In your mind… there is this, this… paint. These colours. What are you showing me?”

Evan closed his eyes and concentrated on specific pieces he had created. “Uh, this one? This is a sunset I painted. One of my favourites. And… this one’s a storm, and that there is a sketch of some broken glass done in charcoal. Then there’s an oil-on-canvas I did of some trees at night… the moonlight was just… And that there? That’s the sea around Atlantis.”

“Yesssss. There! That colour. The one you have used for the ocean.”

“Well… there’s a few there. Let’s see, um, navy, steel, azure, sky--”

“I do not understand.”

“Oh. They’re all just names for different shades of blue. Do you... not see different shades?” Evan asked carefully.

The wraith thought for a moment. “What exactly do you mean by _ blue _ ?”

“Wait. You’re not telling me that you can’t  _ see  _ blue? We probably just have different names for it, right? Um. Can you show me some of what you see?” The wraith obliged and sent a series of images; a sea of stars, a hiveship, their campfire… until he noticed the look of sadness on Evan’s face.

“You… you’re... it’s kind of like you’re colour blind. But not quite. Instead, everything is a little faded or washed with green or grey. There’s a bit of yellow and brown but… that’s it.” Evan’s disbelief was palpable. 

He felt a moment of the wraith’s crushing disappointment before a sudden wrenching pull accompanied the wraith withdrawing his mind from their link. The images and the blank nothing receded completely as he let out a strangled gasp, and swayed where he sat. To his left, the wraith had curled in on himself and he could barely feel his mental presence. 

Despite the weakness of their link, Evan felt it when the wraith’s body was slammed by a sudden and ferocious wave of hunger.  The Second threw his head back and erupted with the thunderous roar of near-crippling emptiness. He collapsed away from Evan and writhed there in the dirt as his body was wracked with tremors and the  scalding starvation threatened to burn away his tenuous grip on their link. 

Evan sat frozen, helpless, as the wraith gulped at the cold night air, sucking down breath after breath in a vain effort to soothe the fire within. He pressed his thumb into his right palm and kneaded back and forth along the length of the slit in time with his panting. Breathe in, scrape back. Breathe out, press forth. 

_ inhalum—exspiro _ .  _ inhalum—exspiro. inhalum—exspiro. _

“Second?” Evan placed a tentative hand on his arm but he jerked away. He realised that their connection had distracted the wraith and, for that short time, he had drifted so far from himself and into Evan’s vibrant mind that his hunger had become a distant and pathetic thing. 

“Second?” He tried again, leaning over to touch ever so gently, only to over-balance and tip onto his side; an instant scraping fire blazing across his ribs. He lay there groaning. “Please?” 

The wraith cradled his damaged hand against his chest and peered at him over his shoulder. Evan tried to force the feeling of apology and sorry down what was left of their link. Very slowly, Evan ran his hand down the wraith’s arm, pulling gently until he lay on his back, their shoulders resting against one another. 

He walked his fingers towards the injured feeding hand. The Second tentatively unfurled his rigid fist just enough so that Evan could weave his fingers between them. He was careful to avoid the swollen orifice as he tightened his grip. The wraith pressed his claws into the back of his hand but he didn’t care.

The  _ filum _ fired between their minds, delivering him once again into their mind-link but this time the blank mindspace was shrouded with apprehension. 

“I– I’m sorry, Second.” Discovering that the wraith could only see such a limited range of colour, and all of them muted pale imitations, had left Evan feeling completely bereft. This ancient creature was deprived of the richness of the full-colour spectrum. 

“Evan Lorne,” the wraith rasped. “I... believe I understand now what you mean by ‘blue’.” 

“Yeah?” He was finding it hard to say much more, every breath delivering hot stabs of pain.

“Yes. Wraith would call it  _ caerulus  _ but sadly it falls short.” 

Closing his eyes, the wraith recalled a memory of the seas around Atlantis but they appeared drab, drained of all vibrancy save for the slightest tinge of a light blue-grey. He then conjured up Evan’s ocean painting, honing in on the play of colours within one of the waves. “You called these navy and steel and…?”

“Azure and sky.” He forced his mind to concentrate on the images and let the wraith’s vast mind carry him away from the piercing pain in his side.

He felt the wraith draw him further into their link. “Well, now I know what I  _ should _ see when I witness this.” 

Within his mind, each of the blue hues began to flash brightly, right before they exploded into the kawoosh of the Stargate. But as it settled into the familiar shimmering event horizon, the image changed and became something else.  Evan’s vision doubled, which sent his weary mind into a heady spiral. 

The rasping continued. “And when I look upon these.”

Evan gasped when the image finally came into focus. “My eyes?”

“Yesss,” the Second whispered. “Each of those blues may not appear different to me, but the sum of those variable parts makes for a very satisfying whole. Perhaps even a… handsome one?”

Evan gently squeezed the tender hand of the Second who merely hummed in reply. Evan opened his eyes to find the wraith staring intently up at the stars. His haunted yellow eyes were glowing a little in the dark.  Evan noticed how tired he looked, and how the rasp of the wraith’s dual-toned voice had become more of a death rattle, joining in sombre chorus with Evan’s drowning wheeze.

With Herculean effort, Evan attempted to shuffle closer on his uninjured left side but couldn’t prevent a pained groan from escaping his lips. The wraith looked at him in alarm. “Come here,” Evan asked, lightly tugging on his hand. “Please?”

The Second eyed him warily but shifted closer. When they were eye to eye he brought his hot forehead to rest against the wraith’s cool, dry skin and closed his eyes. “Now, it’s my turn.”

He began by unfurling a thick white piece of parchment in the wraith’s mind. Soft charcoal brushed its way across the rough paper; it was a man’s form, seen from the side in profile. Sweeping strokes added long hair, then heavy shading formed a black coat. Not a man, a  _ wraith _ . 

The lightest touch revealed faint lines of a tattoo beneath the figure’s eye. An ink of deepest black stained the sky and then gave definition to his tattoo and the vertical line of his pupil. 

Diluted paint spread across the image; yellow where the fire would be, earthy brown for wood, and barely a hint of green on skin. He pushed the word  _ watercolours  _ across their link, followed by  _ acrylics _ .  _ Red-scarlet, _ he whispered and enriched the fire with this colour. He added  _ orange-amber  _ in short precise strokes.  _ Grey-silve _ r provided some fine wisps through the long white hair but then he hesitated. Evan opened his eyes and squinted up at the sky, straining to discern what hovered above them.

“It’s just that...” He got stuck at this point, just like before. He couldn’t finish his painting because the starry sky was just a formless blur to him now. But how could he complain about the loss of his eyesight to a being who could no longer even feed?

Cool fingers traced their way across Evan’s forehead, and down to cover his eyes. Ever so gently, he coaxed him to turn his face toward his own. “Allow me.” 

Where their link hovered between them, Evan now felt a strange sort of overlapping, almost like a new lens had descended over his mind… but only just a little. And a little was just enough. 

The wraith passed a view of the night sky through their link and they both watched in fascination as tiny silver dots and dashes scattered themselves across the black ink.

He felt Evan’s head tilt back against his offhand, and, after a moment’s hesitation, the wraith resumed tracing soft circles into his scalp. With every rotation of his claws, Evan mimicked the movement in his painting, spreading soft white tracks across the starry sky. The wraith felt as though  _ he _ was making them move and whirl and dance around the twin moons. Evan shared the name  _ Van Gogh,  _ though the wraith couldn’t parse their meaning. But he did not mind. He was  _ painting _ . 

To finish, Evan added tiny flecks of colour to the tips of the flaming fire and then reflected within the Second’s eye. 

“Yellow,” the wraith provided, his eyes still closed and a smile ghosting across his lips. 

“Not quite, Second,” he replied, faintly teasing, and the wraith could almost feel the presence of those  charming dimples  in his mind. The image zoomed in on the painting’s right eye taking up most of their shared vision. “See here? Striations in yellow, green, and gold. Or, to be precise, lemon and jade and golden-sand.” 

Each colour glistened in turn before the image returned to its appropriate size and scale. 

“You are very talented, Evan,” the Second mused. “It is quite beautiful.”

A sense of daring grew in Evan’s mind. “Yes. You are.”

The wraith’s eyes snapped open to catch Evan gazing back at him. A flurry of emotions whirled between them, the wraith’s thoughts swirling in confusion with  _ beautiful… him?  _ and then  _ surely not. No, never this one. _

Of all his brethren, he had never once been looked upon in that way. The Second realised his offhand was resting on the back of the Major’s neck, and he froze in the act of rubbing the tips of his fingers along the bristles of dark hair. The fingers of his feeding hand were still loosely entwined with Evan’s, who was cradling his injured limb like it was some precious thing. The back of his hand lay snug against the man’s bare chest; _ so warm. _ He could feel the Major’s heart fluttering fitfully in his chest. 

The Second couldn't help himself; he had to ask. “Really?”

“Yeah,” replied the  bashful  Major. “Your people are all kind of… striking. But you… .” And words like  _ regal _ and  _ poised _ appeared in their link, and  _ rare-delicate-monalisa-beautiful _ .

The wraith closed his eyes and conjured up the image once more. He wanted to memorise every nuance, every stroke, and every colour.  _ Lemon… jade… golden-sand. _ He sent his gratitude down their connection and heard the man sigh. “Thank you, Evan. I have never been named as ‘handsome’ or ‘beautiful’ nor have I ever been gifted something like this.” 

“Can’t say I’ve ever painted a piece in someone’s mind before,” Evan replied. His mind was overwhelmed by what the wraith had given back to him. 

He lay there, humbled and in awe of his friend. Evan studied the happiness that played across the angled planes of the wraith’s face; a face he knew he could sketch and paint and sculpt over and over again and never lose the pleasure of discovering such wonder. He desperately wanted to run his fingers over that marbled skin, mapping out smooth cheekbones and sharp ridges, pressing his thumbs ever so softly against eyes and lips and chin…

Evan could almost feel the cool, wet clay in his hands as he moulded formlessness into the likeness of the wraith.  _ His _ wraith? 

Sheppard liked to compare the wraith to the Earth stories of fanged blood-suckers then proceed to laugh at his own cleverness. But the one lying before him was so fine of feature; the delicate nose and gently pointed chin, the satin fall of long white hair. Even exhausted, injured and half-starved, the wraith looked almost ethereal while resting there under the stars.

Well, Sheppard could keep his disheveled space vamp. Evan decided that celestial elf was far more suitable. 

“Hey, Second? What’s, um, what’s the Wraith word for beautiful? Or-- or handsome?”

Opalescent eyes blinked open and gazed at him. “The most common is  _ de’ceni _ .” The wraith pronounced the word ‘dey- **ch** en-ee’ _.  _ “It means  _ beautiful one _ .” 

_ Dey-chen-ee.  _ It wasn’t quite right but he hoped it would work well enough. Evan closed his eyes again and words appeared under his painting. A title, the date, and his signature; 

_ de'Keni  _ & the starry night _.  _

[Mixed media on mind canvas]

_ ‘E. Lorne, 2010’. _

“ _ Dey-ken-ee? _ ” whispered the wraith.

Blue eyes flashed open. “ _ Handsome one _ . I think it fits.”

“I am-- I don’t-- I--,” the wraith stuttered, shaking his head. The one known as  _ vis mea _ , the Second, Bonewhite, and Kenny was completely without words. Pale yellow eyes begged anxious blue ones for answers. 

Evan gnawed at his lower lip. “Uh, hi. I’m Major Lorne of Earth.  I’ve been told my name means ‘young warrior’. Please call me Evan. My friends all do.”

The wraith looked down at their joined hands. He slipped his good hand from around Evan’s neck and grasped the wrist of his impaired hand. Though it caused sharp splinters of pain, he unfurled his rigid fingers and withdrew from the warmth of Evan’s grip. 

The Second stared down at his hand. “This wraith has been known as many things but none so rich as this new Naming.  To my friend; the young warrior who drove away my hunger and replaced it with illustration and colour and light. To  _ evan-mea _ ; I greet you this day.” 

Evan’s eyes widened in disbelief when the wraith lifted his chin and gave him a proud, unguarded smile. The Second gestured to himself, splaying his brittle fingers over his chest. “This one is...  _ de'Keni _ .”

The wraith, his friend -  _ de'Keni _ \- lifted his delicate green hand from his chest and waited. Evan slipped his hand back underneath, the wraith’s fingers curling loosely around his. 

He didn’t need to ask;  _ evan-mea _ . My Evan.

De'Keni hugged their joined hands to his chest. “I am so honoured. Until this day, my favoured memories were of meeting the Commander and receiving my Mark. But now I believe that your gifting has become my most treasured moment. My deepest thanks, Major Evan Lorne of the homeworld Earth.  _ evan-mea _ .”

Evan didn’t know what to say. He had no idea that his efforts to simply share his love of art and colour would give the wraith something he had gone without for so long. He couldn’t have wiped the grin off his face for anything. 

De'Keni slid his offhand up Evan’s arm and along his shoulder to cup his cheek. He stroked the pad of his thumb over the dimple and thrummed. “I like these tiny hollows. Very much.”

Evan’s grin grew wider still as he stared at the alien in front of him. He pulled gently on their entwined hands and brought the back of de’Keni’s  ruined hand to his lips. 

Beside them,  the last of their fire died out, leaving only thin grey wisps curling in the air . The loss of weak gold firelight  revealed the wraith’s pale papery skin under the moonlight, his dark green veins standing out now in stark relief. The wraith’s hands trembled.

“You’re cold? But… I thought that wraith had a lower core temperature than us humans?”

“Yessss,” replied the wraith, his chin shivering a little. “But even we have our limits,  _ evan-mea. _ And with so little remaining energy…”

“Here, look, uh, unzip the bag there.” There was little Evan could do to help with his right arm strapped down to his  aching side and he wasn’t about to let go of de'Keni’s hand.  He immediately missed having the wraith’s offhand against his cheek and shivered when a rush of cold air gusted down into his open sleeping bag. “Okay, now see if you can - yeah, get rid of the boots - okay, slide your legs in and, um, you’re going to have to get real close, uh, sorry.”

Sliding his left arm under de'Keni’s neck, his fingers carding through a handful of sleek hair, Evan braced those narrow shoulders and pulled the wraith in close. His back was pressed hard against the material of the sleeping bag and the wraith’s slender form was practically plastered against him from waist to feet with only their joined hands wedged between their chests. 

_ “Evan-mea, _ I do not believe I can secure this...  _ zip,  _ but my coat is an adequate covering for my back.” de'Keni’s offhand found its way around his waist and then up to the space between his shoulders, claws tickling the skin on the back of his neck. Evan searched their link for any sign of discomfort but de'Keni just drew him in a little more, careful not to jostle or squeeze too tight.

Lying there together, their legs and fingers entwined, was so utterly  _ right  _ that Evan felt as though they could almost transcend their miserable fate and exist in this moment forever, never wanting for anything more.

Cool skin brushed his cheek as de'Keni leaned in to rest his forehead on Evan’s shoulder. He responded by nuzzling his face into that silky hair, breathing in pine trees and musky-mint. The words _heat-paint-nepenthe_ and _parchment-freshair_ floated into his mind. The last of his energy completely spent, he closed his tired eyes and sighed his contentment against the exposed skin behind the wraith’s ear.

The pain in his side and the rattle in his chest eased away  as he sank into the shelter of the wraith’s mind. For de'Keni,  the hunger that stalked his very soul lay caged in his body but was barred from the sanctuary of their joined minds.

Evan tried to picture the stars above them, knowing he might never see them again. He couldn’t remember how the sky looked above this wretched planet so he settled for the memory of the stars in his gift to de'Keni.

“I will be your eyes,  _ evan-mea _ .” 

Within the darkness of their mental link, de'Keni lit up the heavens so that Evan could see the stars again. But the wraith didn’t limit his vision just to the sky above their lonely planet. The wraith projected his mind out into the darkness and somehow Evan was pulled along in his wake. 

Their minds travelled across an entire galaxy that was housed within de'Keni’s long memory; a dying sun gave way to clusters of stars which then swirled to form alien constellations and distant star systems. 

Evan imagined the white canvas of de'Keni’s mind hovering ahead of him, but changed it to become a comet of lemon and jade and golden-sand that hurtled along with his own mind in tow; a rippling pool of caerulus-blue. de'Keni called to him across their  _ filum _ , a silver thread that tethered them together as they swept through space. Their link pulsed with  _ evan-mea _ and  _ brother-friend-mine _ .

But lurking beneath all of the breathtaking wonders, Evan could feel that  Dekeni’s mind wasn’t completely free of his burning need. Back on the ground, the wraith’s frail body spasmed with hunger. 

“I’ve got you.” Evan tightened his grip on the wraith’s feeding hand, still resting snugly between them. He felt the  damaged, swollen skin around the feeding maw  brush against his palm, but it just made him squeeze a little more. Relief trickled across their  _ filum _ ; it seemed that grasping it tightly alleviated a small amount of the pain.

“Do not let go,  _ evan-mea _ .”

“Not a chance _. _ ”

Within their mental link, the stars slowly winked out of existence, leaving the darkness to take over their combined vision. Evan should have been afraid but he was still being held within the safe refuge of the wraith’s mind. 

De'Keni was thrumming with gratitude that he could spend what may be his last moments in the arms of one so rare. 

“Tu es mi dextera,” Dekeni whispered, and his mind revealed \- _you are my right hand - ._ More words followed; _artifex-brother-friend_ and _protects this wraith_ and _hive._

The wraith whispered to his human,  _ “evan-mea”. _

“Yours,” Evan murmured, and his own mind expressing \- _you are my eyes - ._ Images followed; _silver-hair_ , _eyes of lemon-jade-goldensand_ and _beautiful._

Evan breathed softly to his wraith,  _ “de’keni” _ . 

The two figures lay by the smoking ashes, eyes closed and no longer watching the unforgiving world outside. Their _soli_ drifted along together - marbled yellow and rippling blue - gliding out over a dark formless landscape and into its inky depths. 

Two minds sailed and slipped, sinking far away from their pain and hunger. Coasting slowly along, they entered a space where the shadows slowly receded. In its place, a soft white light grew in intensity until they were surrounded by the glow of a stark white plain. 

They watched as their minds drifted closer and closer - shifting, coiling, mixing - until yellow haze and blue vapour merged into one. 

Somewhere, a whole galaxy away, their bodies rested palm to palm, fingers lost in long hair and claws fixed on cold skin. And in their last moments, lips pressed against lips to taste  _ love _ and  _ hive _ and  _ mine  _ and _ always _ . 

It was their first kiss. 

And their last.

As breathing slowed and colours paled, the faint echoes of  _ evan-mea  _ and  _ de’keni _ faded away into pure white silence. 

And then, there was no more.

  
  


****************************************************************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not despair! There is one more chapter to go...
> 
> If you need a pick-me-up, there is now some cover art in chapter 1 that will make you smile! :D


	5. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The concluding chapter of Evan and Kenny's love story. Will help arrive in time?
> 
> Illustrations:  
> * Evan and Kenny huddled together under the stars  
> * Stange ghosts in the dark  
> * The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note -  
> The format I use to differentiate between spoken dialogue and conversations from mind to mind is to remove speech marks and stick to a particular ‘key’:  
> *Evan’s mindspeak is in non-italics and uses correct capitalisation.  
> *Any wraith mindspeak is in italics and all lower case.  
> *To clearly identify Kenny and Todd, Todd’s mindspeak is also in bold (because he has the more powerful mind). 
> 
> Glossary:  
> *Aegis mea - my shield  
> **Vis mea - my strength   
> Eres-prima - high commander  
> Filum - the mental ‘thread’ that connects two minds  
> Soli - the mindfeel of a Wraith (or human)

White. Only white. Endless, never-ending, everywhere.

Tired, so tired. Rest here always and forever. Here in the white, in the nothing. 

Slumber in the off-white.

Sleep safely in the snow-white, the ivory, the alabaster.

There are no dreams here within the dust, the chalk, the bone.

Within the bone.

In the bone-white. 

But bone-white is not true white. It is a light yellow-white with an undertone of pale green. 

And Bonewhite, well, he is not _only_ white. His hair is satin silver-white and his skin is pale green.

His hair binds my frozen fingers. His eyes pierce and glow and shine; lemon and jade and golden-sand. His willow skin is smooth and cold, always cold with delicate veins that spider softly. His nose... it should sniff and scent, wrinkle and twitch. But it does not.... and those veins have turned dark and hard. He has shattered. He is dying. 

_Why is he dying?_

Perhaps because he is not Bonewhite at all. 

His mind is not bleached or bleak or barren or bone. 

It is soft and pale and whispering and pearl.

He is cordial and clever, quiet and kind.

He is de’Keni.

But where is he? And why is he dying? I can’t remember.

’Keni?

  
  
  


All around Evan, the whites were glowing; the dust, the chalk, the bone. They were blending and bleeding, mixing and changing until there was only one; pure white. But it became _too_ bright and the mind that was once Evan Lorne tried to look away from the glare. 

But he could not. He couldn’t. _Why not?_

Because the white was everywhere; radiant, illuminating, blinding _. Was he really seeing this?_ Evan couldn’t even work out if his eyes were open. Everything was all blurred and without form or shape. 

Evan hunched away from the white heat of the hostile light. Agony exploded down his side, venting the very breath from his lungs and firing his mind into chaos. 

He couldn’t— words wouldn’t— the pain— 

It was all too much. 

_—help! Help me!_

Cracks appeared in his ivory mind; tiny veins of lemon, jade, and golden-sand. At first, the fragile capillaries pulsed sluggishly, then faster, faster, faster until a blazing white flash over-exposed his vision to reveal fiery neon scars against a blackened roaring famine. 

Blistering hunger dug itself under Evan’s skin and seared his eyes. His body was suffused with burning light and a scorching fever of _wanting_ and _needing_ — 

he was _hungry_ , and it _hurt—_

—he was tearing, ripping, bleeding, breaking— 

_–oh, god!_

Everything burned. 

No! Everything was in flames. Inflamed. 

“No!” His soul was on fire. “Please!” 

With the _light_ and the _heat_ and the _hunger_ came a noise; a rushing, whooshing, frightening sound that pressed in on his ears and drilled into his mind. _Where… why?_

Once again he sought escape and found shelter in the curved form next to him. But he could only pant and whimper there. The rigid figure was unforgiving. In the stark white light, Evan couldn’t hide from him that which he desperately did not want to see; 

The limp body, the still face; grey, ash, stone.

No! No no no no _no no no…_

He willed his fingers to move, to squeeze the lifeless hand locked within his. At first, nothing. Then tiny pins pricked at his palm and sent needles stabbing along each finger. They stung his fingertips and then pierced their way back to where a barbed thorn sliced open his palm. 

Evan screamed. 

Hot molten liquid pooled and poured and then it was pulled from his hand, his arm, his heart. He had no breath left to cry out, and then he couldn’t breathe at all.

The rushing, whooshing, frightening sounds bellowed louder as the beam of light seared his eyes blind until darkness blurred across the white and heat and pain. 

Evan pushed and kicked and rocked, groaning as he rolled himself over to shield his friend from the flaming light and endless screaming noise. But he knew nothing could save them. 

Those ghostly shadows were still coming, coming, coming…

********************

Blue. Blinking into life.

Cerulean and black.

And not dead. 

Navy and steel and azure and sky. 

Staring back at him. 

_Seeing_ him. 

_evan-mea…_

’Keni? 

_hhhheeeere…_

’Keni!

_yes._

A voice rasped, “de’Keni?” 

“Yessss.” The wraith blinked against the brightness of that blue stare. “Evan.”

“...m’here, ’Keni.” A warm forehead, then dry lips. 

“Mmmm. This one is… de’Keni.” The words were whisper soft and profoundly loud.

“How?” 

De’Keni, for he would cling onto his Naming while he could, did not yet understand how. He had come back into awareness by following the beacon of Life, blood thundering in his ears, and hunger’s shadow retreating to the borders of his mind. He recognised the taste of Life tingling in his palm but he did not care for any of that now. He only cared about the one who was lying before him. 

The one who he had betrayed. His friend. “I am sorry, _evan-mea_.” 

Within their weak link, he felt the man’s confusion. Evan could not understand why he would be sorry. They were alive, both of them, and there should be no _sorrys_ for that, only _thank-yous_ and _thank-gods_. 

De’Keni, for he must fight for his right to that Name, slipped his shaking offhand away from Evan’s back and snaked it between them. One by one he coaxed the gnarled fingers of his feeding hand away from Evan’s, tiny spheres of blood beading where his claws hand dug in. He cupped Evans’ hand in both of his own, presenting the damning evidence to his only friend.

They looked into the depths of the shadowed palm between them and saw what looked like the sharp red slash of a feeding maw, bloody and angry and _please-no_ and _impossible—_

“Please, _evan-mea_.” He tried to smile but his mind was drowning under the weight of his violation. “I...”

_fed._

_on you._

_i am sorry._

“You fed? But I thought your, your… was...?”

“Broken? Not quite.” The glare of those blue eyes blinded him and he had to look away. “Damaged, weak, deformed? Yes.”

“And did you know you could–?”

“No. I would not… I could _never…_ I did _not_ know that I could…” Under the relentless spotlight his shivering had turned to violent shudders and his panic flooded their bonded minds. “I am sorry, _evan-mea_ ! It was nothing but a sip... a taste… but there is _no_ excuse. I am so very–”

_sorry sorry sorry_

_sorry sorry sorry sorry_

_sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry_

_SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY_

_SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY_

Regret screamed through his mind and self-loathing roared in his ears. The Wraith Who had Betrayed the Major severed their tie. They were not friends or brothers and he was not… he was not... _de’Keni._

His pathetic apology was left to echo around his mind, bouncing off the barren void of his _solis_ . He was not the Second. He was not _vis mea_. He was only Bonewhite. 

The shadows wavered around him, slinking closer, stalking. He was lost and alone and without anyone to come for him. No one wanted this wraith because he was wrong and broken and he always had been. 

This one was only _debilitis_ and nothing more. 

He felt Evan fumbling between them until his treacherous feeding palm was engulfed by a strong hand. A heavy arm tightened around his shoulders and tugged him in tight. Fingers brushed clumsily through his tangled hair and Evan rocked them gently. 

Under the resounding _sorrys_ , the wraith could feel Evan’s ribs and head and palm screaming raw, but yet the man just rocked and he hushed and he soothed and he murmured. 

Back and forth and back and forth. 

His Evan was crying and thanking strange forces for keeping them alive. For keeping _him_ alive; a wraith, a thief of Life. His Evan was grateful for _him_. His Evan was holding him like some precious thing, like… like–

de’Keni… 

de’Keni… de’Keni… 

de’Keni… de’Keni… de’Keni… 

Evan’s mind was barely there anymore but even so, he heard the human chanting his name; an answering croon to his own rueful howl. The wraith gathered everything he was thinking and feeling and flooded his torn _filum,_ desperate to find their link, their bond. 

He closed his eyes against the relentless light and shut his mind off to the wailing noise, rocking and waiting with Evan. He held on in the darkness until that thin gossamer thread reappeared and guided his mind through the dark until he felt Evan’s _solis_ pulsing in the distance. There. As the _filum_ recoupled, Evan’s mind burst into a kawoosh of rippling, flashing _caerulus_ -blue.

_i am here._

Don’t leave me again. 

Please.

_i will not._

Promise me.

_you have my word._

Hands pressed between them, de’Keni returned his offhand to stroke Evan’s neck. The wind grew louder, kicking up clouds of ash and earth that danced and settled on them both. As Evan sobbed into his shoulder, the wraith held on and on, afraid that if he let go they would untether and their minds would return to dust. 

“...’Keni.”

“ _Evan-mea._ My Evan.”

********************

Evan had no idea how long he lay there, wrapped up in ‘Keni’s arms and cocooned in the safety of his mind. It could have been hours, days even, but the wraith’s soft chuckling huff told him it was only seconds. 

Cool fingers clawed at his neck. “ _Evan-mea_? Evan… look.”

He didn’t want to release his hold or let in the light and noise and ghosts, but those claws became adamant, scritching their insistence into his skin. Pulling back just a little, he turned his head and peered out into the glare. 

For the first time, he wondered what could generate so much light. The pathetic moons still shone somewhere above them, barely illuminating the dismal grey dust and barren, pock-marked ground. Beams of light were coming from further away, with ghosts that roved around in front, coming toward them, solidifying into shadows. 

From the formless shadows, two dark spectres broke free, moving both fast and slow and forward and back. Squinting didn’t help; his eyes were truly failing him and his brain couldn’t grasp what was happening. 

“Evan.” A hand squeezed his. He turned in to face a gentle baring of teeth. “I will show you.”

He slumped back down and let ‘Keni send him what he could see. From the blurred mess of light and shade, the hazy shadows sharpened into two silhouettes; one with a shock of unruly hair and the other with a long, wild mane.

“Sheppard?” Hope leapt in his chest.

“The Colonel, he comes for you, yes.” 

Footsteps. Running. Murmurs solidified into rumbles and drawls. “And… Todd?”

“ _Eres-prima_.” 

“Sorry. The Commander?”

“He comes for me. He _always_ comes.” ‘Keni hummed and their _filum_ buzzed with joy. Evan lit up their minds with spectral devotion, love, honour, and thanks. 

It took another lifetime but finally, Sheppard and Todd were finally there, kneeling on either side of their lost Seconds. 

“Colonel Sheppard?” 

“Right here, buddy.” John’s worried face emerged from the shadows. A warm hand gripped his shoulder, careful not to jostle his battered side.

Metal-clad fingers brushed over Evan’s arm to cradle ‘Keni’s head as Todd leaned in to press his forehead to his Second’s. 

Todd’s mind linked with his brother's, and burst in on Evan; 

**_vis mea_ **

‘Keni sighed with relief. 

_aegis mea_

Todd rested his large hand over Sheppard’s on Evan’s shoulder. 

**_major lorne_ **

‘Keni frowned. 

_evan-mea_

Todd tilted his head and studied the human. 

**_second, i do not–_ **

Evan bared his teeth and tried to directly address Todd; 

This wraith is de’Keni!

It was unnerving to have both wraith staring at him, Todd’s yellow eyes wide with surprise. Evan held their gaze for a moment before offering up a tired smile. ‘Keni’s delight surged between the three of them with _indentations-hollows-marks_ and he felt himself blush.

“Uh, guys,” Sheppard drawled. “Kinda feel like I’m missing something here.”

“Sorry, boss.” Evan was having trouble focusing on the Colonel’s words, as Todd and ‘Keni’s voices tumbled rapidly through his mind. 

**_he is–?_ **

_evan-mea. my friend._

**_mmmm._** **_brother, i was–_**

**_[frightened-lost-waiting-searching]_ **

_help this human–_

_[muchpain-broken-hurtings]_

**_but... do you not–?_ **

**_[hunger-long-need-burn]_ **

At the mention of his hunger, ‘Keni fled from Todd’s mind, concealing his shame and retreating closer to his bond with Evan. 

“Colonel, where’s AR-1?”

Sheppard busied himself with checking over Evan’s injuries, pointedly ignoring their joined hands. Evan ignored the stinging throb in his palm and waited. “There were… extenuating circumstances, Major.” 

“So you came without Mr. Woolsey’s permission.” Evan didn’t even bother to conceal his disapproval. “And AR-1?”

Sheppard jerked his head in the direction of his backpack and Todd reached in to grab a packet of meds. He’d brought the good stuff, swiped from Beckett’s locked storeroom. Todd popped two pills from the foil, handing them to Evan along with a bottle of water. Helping ‘Keni to sit up, he rumbled, “We were forced to act in great haste, Major Lorne.”

“And you thought it acceptable to mount a rescue operation _without_ human Healers?” ‘Keni sniffed, glaring at Todd as he accepted some water. “A foolish decision.” 

Sheppard stopped his efforts to re-strap Evan’s ribs. “Now, hold up there, Kenny, we–”

“Second,” Evan blurted out.

“Oh, uh, what?” The Colonel looked startled by Evan’s reproof.

“You will call him _Second_ ,” he insisted. “Sir.”

_do you wish to share my new Naming?_

de’Keni? 

_yesss._

No. That’s… _[special-sacred-yours-ours]_

_my thankssss._ Evan felt the wraith’s pleasure at his decision.

Sheppard looked from Evan to ‘Keni and back, then darted a glance at Todd who smirked in amusement. “Sheppard. Your Namings are not always so well received.” 

“But you like your name.” Sheppard looked doubtful. “Right?”

The wraith Commander affected a look of total innocence. “We must go.”

“Fine.” Sheppard stood and raised a prompting eyebrow.

Todd turned to Evan. “I am afraid we are without a transportation apparatus so you must be carried.”

“Wait, what? Who’s gonna…?” Evan was having trouble getting his mouth around his words and he was starting to feel all warm and loose.

Strong hands lifted him up as though he weighed nothing. He was confused for a moment when his vision was taken up with white hair and green skin but it was all showy-white not silky and brazen-green rather than willow-pale. And the fresh pine scent had been replaced by something bittersweet like… licorice? 

This was not ‘Keni but… Todd. And that meant he was no longer holding… and had become untethered from... He pushed away from a chest that was too broad and looked up into eyes that were yellow, only plain ordinary yellow. “Stop! Please… I just–”

The wraith appeared by his side, propped up by Sheppard. He leaned in close and whispered, “I am here _, evan-mea.”_

“Todd’s gotcha, buddy,” Sheppard assured. “And he promises not to bite.” 

Evan could feel a warning growl building in Todd’s chest and he caught a glimpse of those sharp teeth under a curled upper lip. The meds were making everything too big and too loud and too much. He didn’t know where to put his hands and his ribs were on fire and ‘Keni was there but Sheppard was helping him and it should be _Evan_ helping the wraith make it to the jumper and–

A familiar vibrating hum began but it sounded strange. Todd’s thrumming was deeper and it resonated right at the back of Evan’s mind, effectively cutting off his panic but it left him completely stunned for a moment. Beside him, ‘Keni hummed his approval; a lighter sound that harmonised with his Commander’s deep tones and danced around within Evan’s mind, dulling his pain while reigniting his ability to think. He let his wraith lull him back into a calm state and relaxed in Todd’s arms.

  
  
  


They made their way toward the bright light. ‘Keni sniffed and he glanced up to find the wraith peering down at him, a crooked smile lighting up his tired face. The wraith took his hand as they struggled along. “We are taking you home now, _evan-mea_.” 

When they reached the back of Sheppard’s favourite jumper, Todd set him down carefully on one of the bench seats in the back and headed up front. Sheppard eased ‘Keni down next to him. “Try to keep him steady on the trip home, okay? Holler if you need anything.”

Evan watched Sheppard slump down into the pilot’s seat, catching a fond look that passed between him and Todd. 

“Evan-mea?” ‘Keni had settled back against the wall, his long legs straddling the bench seat. The wraith beckoned with his off-hand so he leaned back on ‘Keni’s chest. The wraith placed his feeding hand on Evan’s which rested on his lap and slipped his off-hand under Evan’s tender palm, the cool skin soothing his untreated feeding wound. ‘Keni rested his chin on Evan’s shoulder and they smiled. 

‘Keni lifted his off-hand and gently pressed a pale green knuckle to the corner of Evan’s mouth.

_there they are again, your_

_[indentations-hollows-dimples]_

yours, ‘Keni. 

[everything-anything-all]

Evan grinned at the look of shock on ‘Keni’s face, right before their link was flooded with warmth and heat and _mine?-no-yes-yesplease… yes-mine!_

‘Keni thrummed softly as the jumper fired up around them and the powerful searchlights dimmed. They stared out of the open hatch at the bland, grey expanse. Evan wasn’t sorry that he couldn’t make out the barren spot where they had lost one another, but even so... 

A warm nudge at the back of his mind delivered what ‘Keni could share; the pitiful moons staring down at the remnants of their campfire, all smoke and ash and partially obscured by the dust cloud kicked up by their rescuers. 

Eventually, that powdery dirt would settle and all that remained of their plight would be the hulking carcass of an abandoned gateship. His body wanted to sink into sleep but he couldn’t, not just yet. Not until the hatch closed on their little camp and they cleared the debris field surrounding the spacegate.

“Hey, sir?” Evan heard a distracted grunt of acknowledgment. “How’d you make it through all that debris?”

It was Todd who answered. “We assumed that your craft had sustained damage forcing you to set down on the nearest planet.”

“Wasn’t easy,” Sheppard piped up. “Nearly called it a day. Wanted to get back in time for dinner. It’s pizza night.”

“Sheppard,” Todd rumbled in reproach. His deep dual-toned voice resonated strangely in Evan’s head as the wraith’s thoughts passed through his connection to ‘Keni at the same time. Todd was communicating mentally, but not with ‘Keni–

**_you speak untruths_ **

–and Evan found himself the uninvited witness to a faint pulse of _[nooneleftbehind]_ and Todd’s stronger throb of _yesss-mysheppard-myjohn,_ all wrapped up in a thick layer of affection.

“Colonel Sheppard is correct that it was not easy.” It was getting hard to fight the desire to sleep with ‘Keni’s voice purring in his ear. “ _Eres-prima_ had to assist with navigation.”

Evan could hear Todd shifting in his seat. “Your gateship was not emitting a signal and this empty world is vast indeed.” 

**_second._ **

**_i thought you were lost to me,_ **

**_but..._ **

_you heard my mind_

“What?” Evan yawned, ribs trying to protest through his medicated haze. “He heard you?” 

“Beckoning from the darkness,” ‘Keni whispered, lips brushing Evan’s ear. “Both of us.”

Evan turned, his lips tracing along the wraith’s jaw, his chin, and up to meet his mouth. Their kiss was warm and cool, bright and shadowed; it was incandescent with _navy-steel-azure-sky_ and _lemon-jade-goldensand_. ‘Keni felt his mind melt into Evan’s as his heart thrummed and his skin tingled. They parted, panting, smiling.

Senses calming, Evan asked, “Todd heard... us?”

“Yes.” ‘Keni’s frail hand squeezed his, the wraith’s secret hidden between their palms. 

They closed their eyes and found themselves surrounded by the familiar welcoming white of ‘Keni’s _solis_. Beyond the borders of the wraith’s mind, a blue-white star shone faintly; Todd. He understood that what he saw next was from Todd and, somehow, from Sheppard.

_********************_

in a lonely sea of stars cast out across the inky depths of space

desperate minds are searching;

 _[eresprima-highcommander-todd]_ and _[coloneljohnsheppard-brother]_

and though they come flying, they are failing 

then, out of the endless silence… 

a call... 

too faint… too far...

it comes again, again, again but it cries out from nowhere and from nothing

and so they cannot find 

_[second- bonewhite-vis mea]_ and _[majorevanlorne-soldier-brother]_

until…

until…

a distant comet fires in _lemon-jade-goldensand_

tethered in silver to

a rippling star of _navy-steel-azure-sky_

still so distant, so far away

but the wraith and the human who seek their seconds 

are coming to claim them.

with every breath, they draw closer, ever closer to

_The One Who Hides His Light_ and _He Who Guards the Dead City_

***********

“You called them, ‘Keni?”

“And you showed them the way, _evan-mea_.”

“I… don’t understand.”

“Perhaps…”

***************

a loving soul, which never dies

takes broken hand and failing eyes,

if body fails, the mind must rise

to cleave the silence, and paint the skies.

we are tethered, yet we are free

with hand to hold and eyes to see.

***************

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to lie; I may be sitting here, in front of my computer, ready to press 'post' and ugly-crying. To all those who have read, kudos'd, or commented; thank you, thank you thank you! This has been a passion project for me for a year now, so it's so exciting to post the final chapter. 
> 
> I hope you have enjoyed following the budding romance between these two and, who knows? Maybe we'll see more of them as they navigate their lives together and work out how to help each other. 
> 
> xxEos


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